


What A Perfect Way To Meet

by geckoholic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, F/F, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:05:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora is the youngest child of the Hale family, owners of a skeevy private security firm. She doesn't want anything to do with that; her goals are more of the academic sort. In a college chatroom she meets Erica, they meet, and sparks fly. Cora/Erica, AU, mostly PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What A Perfect Way To Meet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vexatious_vehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexatious_vehome/gifts).



> Based on the prompts "Person A and Person B flirt in a chatroom regularly, but don't know it is the other. They meet for a first date", "alley sex" and "biting".
> 
> Caesaria gave this a once-over. Thank you!! ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Title is from "The Perfect Way To Meet" by Kisschasy.

Cora Hale is the black sheep in her family. That, in itself, is nothing out of the ordinary. It's true for a lot of families – two or three kids that fit neatly into the mold their parents made, and then there's the one with the nose piercing or the tattoo in obvious places or the pink hair. Only, that's not what makes Cora an outsider in _her_ family. 

She's a straight-A student, fluent in French and Spanish. She's in talks with two Ivy League colleges that would love to enroll her, maybe even with a full ride. In every other family, she wouldn't be the odd one out, she'd be the shining star. But the Hales are a little different. Being book-smart doesn't mean so much in circles like theirs. 

For any innocent bystander, Hale Personal Security is a simple business. Private protection, bodyguards, security systems. A little bit of an unusual way to make a living, but not so weird per se. If one digs beneath the surface, though, there are the mobsters and the secret trips to South America and a lot of shit that Cora doesn't even want to know too much about. 

One of the ways to achieve that is getting lost in her statistics homework, while around her everyone is prepping for one of her mom's _business trips_. She's got her headphones in, music turned up almost as loud as it goes to drown out the shouting and the talks about bribing shady border controls. She keeps her eyes straight on the page so she doesn't have to see the guns that are packed next to clothes and toiletries. 

That's when her chat client pings and a window pops up with a private message. 

 

 **SheWolf28** : Hi there, sweetie. How're you doing?

 

As soon as she reads the screen name, Cora smiles, homework momentarily forgotten. They met a month ago in a chat room on the college website, and by now they're talking pretty much daily. 

 

**Halestorm** : Ah, okay. Mom's about to leave, so that's one less to get on my nerves for a week or two.

**SheWolf28** : LOL, small mercies, right?

**Halestorm** : Totally.

 

Cora pauses with her fingers on the keyboard, then chides herself for being a chicken and adds: 

 

 **Halestorm** : So, did you think about what we talked about yesterday? We don't have to, I understand not wanting to complicate things.

 

Her heart migrates to her throat until the client pings again, displaying the reply. 

 

**SheWolf28** : I'm up for it if you are.

**Halestorm** : Okay. I am. Man, I so am. :D When? 

**SheWolf28** : I have a calculus exam this week, and I gotta study my ass off, but it'll be done on Friday. So, Friday night?

**Halestorm** : Yes, sounds great!

**SheWolf28** : Okay, awesome. Gotta run, study group in a bit, but we'll talk about the when and where when I get back?

 

Cora types a quick “okay” into the box, and then the window goes inactive. She's grinning as she closes the laptop, wide enough to make Derek glare at her with his eyebrows raised in question. She flips him off, resulting in an eye roll from him, and sets out to get herself a sandwich and a glass of lemonade before getting back to her homework. 

Her stupid big brother can glare all he wants. Cora's got a date on Friday. 

 

***

 

She's fifteen minutes early. It seemed like a sensible decision at the time, making sure they don't miss each other, but now Cora realizes she's set herself up for pure torture. She keeps checking her watch just to see that hardly another minute passed, and she's so nervous she wants to scream or cry or both. It's rather pathetic. They're not strangers. Not really. Except for how they didn't even exchange pictures and full names, which yes, probably stupid, but Cora didn't want anything to spoil the first time they see each other, and, after all, if growing up in a family like hers taught her one thing then it's how to defend herself. All she's got to go on is a vague description and the sign they agreed upon – a book they already talked about in chat; Cora's already read it and recommended it to Erica. And every time another girl enters the busy college bar they chose for their date, Cora's heart skips a beat. 

Another glance at her watch tells Cora that it's 8:51 PM. God, she hopes Erica won't be late. While she might survive another ten minutes of this, any more would likely send her into a nervous breakdown. She taps her finger on the table to the beat of the song that's thrumming in the bar, despite not liking it much. Her eyes are pinned to the door – whenever she's not staring at that damn watch as if she could _will_ the time to pass faster. She also sort of needs to pee, but now it's too late; Murphy's Law dictates that if she went now _now_ , Erica would arrive in that exact window of time, and marching out of the rest room is not how Cora wants to introduce herself. 

Maybe she's thinking about all this too much. Okay, scratch that. No maybes, she's definitely overthinking it.

Cora nearly jumps out of her skin when someone coughs behind her, almost falls off her chair when she wheels around. 

“Hey,” Erica says, holding the book up in front of her chest. She's _gorgeous_. A wavy mess of blonde hair, blue eyes, stark red lipstick, wearing a simple, low-cut black top that hugs her upper body in all the right ways and blue jeans. 

Momentarily, Cora loses her ability to form words. She watches Erica's eyebrows shoot up and her face scrunch a little before she remembers that, oh yes, maybe she should reply. The “Hey!” that comes out is too loud and kinda shrill even to her own ears. It does, however, make Erica grin and blush for a second, so there's that. 

Erica sits down across the table from Cora, reaches for the menu. “Are you hungry?” 

“Not really,” Cora replies, remembering that there's a half-empty glass of Coke in front of her. She wraps both her hands around it like people do with tea mugs in winter, just to have something to occupy herself with. 

“Good. Me neither.” With a shrug, Erica puts the menu back. Nobody says a word until the waiter comes by, taking her order for a cocktail. Meanwhile, Cora tries to reconcile the girl in front of her with the person she chatted to daily for the past few weeks. They talked until the early morning some days, telling each other about their lives, their dreams, their fears. It was so easy, while this is anything but. Cora has no idea what to say, and apparently, neither does Erica. 

Just when things are edging into the territory of awkward silence, Erica leans over, putting her hand over Cora's. “You don't have to be nervous. I already know you, and I already _like_ you.” 

It's a good thing Cora has no desire to join the family business. Quite obviously, her stealth leaves a lot to be desired. 

“I don't do this often,” she says. 

Erica smiles. “Yeah, I figured. How about we just... How was your day? What would you tell me right now if we were in chat?” 

And that's when the dam breaks. Cora launches right into a rant about how Derek behaves like he's in charge of everyone and everything when their mother's away – which, technically, he is, but that's not the _point_ – and Erica listens, nods, and occasionally comments with a few choice words. In turn, Cora listens while Erica complains about her tutor, and the next time Cora randomly checks her watch, almost an hour has passed. 

Erica flags the waiter again, ordering them both a new round of cocktails. She made the mistake of offering Cora a sip of her first one, and Cora ended up drinking almost half of it. By now, Cora's got a comfortable buzz going, there's more color in Erica's cheek than when she first arrived, and Cora wants to... She's not sure. She wants to get away from here, get rid of all the people. She wants to be alone, have Erica all for herself, instead of continuing to get drunk in a busy bar. What's more, she also doesn't want to keep drinking, afraid that it might dull her senses. This is too important to experience in a fog. 

Okay, so maybe she _is_ sure. 

She listens to Erica talk about the paper she's got due next week, her bitch of a roommate, and she's heard all of this before. Versions of it, anyway. Mundane things. And she realizes Erica's right. They didn't just meet. They've been part of each other's lives for months.

It makes Cora feel less reckless when she leans forward, close enough to whisper into Erica's ear, despite the music and the blur of conversations around them. “Want to get out of here?”

Erica stops mid-sentence, her face a display of confusion at first, but quickly morphing into a grin. She nods, already grabbing her purse. They don't even wait for the waiter to come back, pay at the bar on their way out. Once they're out the door, Cora takes Erica's hand. Erica entwines their fingers. 

“So,” she asks. “Where to?” 

And that's an excellent question, actually. Taking Erica back to the Hale House would mean that Derek, Laura _and_ their skeevy-ass uncle Peter would likely notice that a) Cora's brought someone home and b) that someone doesn't possess a penis. Keeping secrets within those walls is all but impossible, and while Laura knows that her little sister's into girls, Cora isn't quite ready to break the news to the rest of them yet. Erica's place is out of the question too, what with the annoying roommate, and yeah, they probably didn't think this through. 

Judging how her face falls, Erica also just did the math on that one. “Want to, I dunno, hit another place?” 

That's not at all what Cora wants, but it doesn't look like they have another option. Except... “Erica?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Wanna do something crazy with me?” Cora regrets that question almost instantly, they're in a random dark alley, the old brick wall they're just walking past looks dirty and all kinds of uncomfortable, someone could come by any moment, there's no way Erica's going to go for that – 

“Yes,” Erica says, tightening her grip on Cora's hand and already steering them towards the aforementioned wall; they're on the same page here, apparently. “Yes, I do.” 

When Cora's back hits the cold stone, they're already kissing. She can't quite discern who started it, both of them, kinda, and she's too preoccupied with getting Erica closer, so much closer, to spend much thought on figuring that out. It doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing matters other than the unique way Erica tastes, the body heat that's seeping through Erica's shirt and that Cora's close enough to feel, the flowery smell of her perfume, the way her hand is clutching at Cora's hips. 

It's not the first time Cora's fooling around with another girl, but it's the first time it _means_ something. Not an experiment, not testing her limits, but someone she actually wants to be with. 

She pushes at Erica, gently, until she's got their positions switched, and slips her hand underneath Erica's shirt. It's easy to work the edge of her push-up bra down enough so she can flick her thumb over Erica's nipple, feel the way it hardens underneath her touch. She wants to pull the shirt up all the way, see it, get her mouth around it, but... Not here. Instead, she slides her hand down lower, the opposite direction, and goes about working Erica's belt open. Presses her mouth to Erica's neck, whispers to ask her if this is okay. 

Erica's yes in reply gets half-lost in a groan when Cora nibbles at her shoulder, playful, barely any teeth. Her other hand disappears down Erica's panties. She's already wet, swirls her hips a little when Cora first strokes a finger through her folds. They cling to each other, touching in as many places as possible while Cora rubs over her clit, slowly, not too much pressure. She should hurry, make this about bringing Erica off hard and fast – they're in public, nowhere to hide and no way that a passerby _wouldn't_ immediately know what they're doing. But Erica's little movements as she's riding out the sensations, how she's panting and squirming and pressing her face to where Cora's is still resting against her shoulder, so that Cora can feel her breath on her own skin – it's too intoxicating. At some point, Erica starts to curse her out, calling her names, demanding Cora make her fucking _come_ , what the hell, why is she so cruel. Her arm is wrapped around Cora's middle, gripping her shirt and pulling at it. 

Cora finally indulges her when they hear faint voices in the distance. She doesn't turn to check how close they are, if they saw them, if they know, enjoys the thought of sending Erica over the edge while someone's in earshot, maybe even close enough to watch. She'd feel bad, except Erica doesn't complain – she comes, violently, tearing at Cora's clothes even harder, crying out. 

For a few moments, neither of them says or does anything. Cora carefully withdraws her hand, keeps perfectly still until Erica reaches down to lift up her face and kiss her again. 

They sneak out of the alley giggling and once more holding hands, and Cora decides they seriously need to find a place where they can be alone, with a bed and lots of time on their hands and no one to disturb them. Cora's got a lot of things she wants to do in the near future, all of which involve Erica and none of which involve clothes.


End file.
